Inspired by the Shinoda chapters of Egoist (Acts 7-8?). Please enjoy! :)
Indiscretions, or: Hiroki, the Town Bicycle
The idea of getting Hiro-san drunk was to make him less shy. When drunk, Hiro-san was able to speak and act freely, and while Nowaki certainly didn't mind the usual, reserved Hiro-san, he occasionally did like hearing love confessions being said to him.
It wasn't even that hard to do, no matter how much Hiro-san protested. A home-cooked meal and a nice bottle of plum wine ensure that soon Hiro-san was sitting next to him on the floor, instead of across from him.
"Aaah, Nowaki, I love you so much," Hiro-san said while trying to move even closer to Nowaki, which effectively landed him in Nowaki's lap.
Nowaki smiled. "I know, Hiro-san. You love me the best, right?" It was a little childish of him, but he liked being reassured every now and again. In his mind, he knew that Hiro-san never had a chance with Usami-san, and that Professor Miyagi was apparently having some sort of illicit affair with the dean or something like that -- but that didn't stop him from getting jealous.
"Yes, the best. Out of all the people I've been with, you're the best," Hiro-san assured, now letting his hands slip under Nowaki's sweater and running light touches across Nowaki's stomach. Nowaki pushed those hands away long enough to pull the sweater off completely, after which Hiro-san pulled him down into a kiss.
Something at the back of Nowaki's mind was bothering him though. He wanted to tell it to shut up, to just enjoy the moment -- how often did he get to enjoy Hiro-san leading the way? -- but that stupid pang of jealousy refused to go away.
"How many people have you been with, Hiro-san?"
The question made Hiro-san stop trying to undo Nowaki's belt buckle; in fact, Hiro-san sat up straight and slid back into the space next to Nowaki, instead of on top of him.
"Shush, I'm trying to count." Hiro-san made a show of counting off on his fingers, and Nowaki realized with a start that the number was quickly going into the double digits.
Nowaki sat up, reaching out to pull Hiro-san back towards him. "Hiro-san, surely it's not--"
Hiro-san only batted Nowaki's hand away. "You asked! And anyway, it's somewhere around 110, give or take."
110. One hundred and ten. That was one hundred and seven people more than Nowaki had ever been with. Nowaki barely even noticed when Hiro-san started kissing him again, and was taken completely by surprise when Hiro-san's hand wrapped itself around his cock.
"Yes?" Hiro-san looked a little bit annoyed, apparently not enjoying the interruption.
It was a certain sense of masochism that led Nowaki to ask, "Am I... am I the best person you've slept with?"
Ideally, Hiro-san would have immediately replied "yes." If he hadn't been drunk, Hiro-san might have replied, "What kind of stupid question is that?"
When drunk, Hiro-san was completely honest, so the answer was, "Ah, you're in the top ten. Probably at number three-ish. Now shut up and kiss me."
Nowaki did shut up, mostly because his mind had left him. Hiro-san was unhappy with him. Hiro-san would find somebody who was a better lay than Nowaki and leave. Hiro-san would find his number one lay again and decide to never waste time with Nowaki, who was completely inadequate.
He barely even noticed Hiro-san's orgasm, and didn't care that Hiro-san fell asleep against him without bothering to let Nowaki finish.
The mood in the apartment was, to put it simply, completely down. Hiroki wasn't quite sure what had happened last night, past the usual drinking-and-having-sex, but Nowaki refused to look him in the eye over breakfast.
"Nowaki, is, uh, something wrong?" Hiroki had a feeling that whatever the problem was, it was linked to last night -- when he had come home, Nowaki was in high spirits, and Hiroki didn't have the heart to turn down the obvious ruse to get him to drink. Usually those evenings ended up with Nowaki extremely satisfied in the morning, so the fact that Nowaki was now gloomy and depressed...
"Hiro-san, how many partners have you slept with?"
Hiroki dropped his toast. "Wh-what kind of a stupid question is that?"
Nowaki shrugged. "At the hospital, my co-workers started talking about their exes. It got me thinking about my past lovers."
Hiroki could admit, to himself, that he'd always been curious about that. For Nowaki, he just nonchalantly raised an eyebrow, to not appear too interested. "Oh?"
"Yes. When I was sixteen I dated a girl who worked with me at the local supermarket. We broke up because she found somebody else. Then when I was seventeen I briefly dated a salaryman who was a regular customer at the flower shop. I called it off when I discovered he was married with children."
Hiroki wondered if he should be disturbed by that second confession, but decided it wasn't worth it. Besides, if he caused any trouble here, it would probably only direct attention back to his own sexual indiscretions.
"What about you, Hiro-san?" Nowaki looked at him expectantly, chin resting on his hands.
Hiroki shrugged casually. "Ah, I don't know. It was a long time ago. We've been together for what, seven years now?"
"You don't remember any of your exes at all?"
"N-not really. I dated maybe one person before you. Since, um, if you remember, I was smitten with Akihiko back then. And then after that, I, uh, had you." Hiroki blushed as he stammered out the last part, and he hoped Nowaki appreciated how hard it was for him to say this. Hopefully he'd drop the subject.
But hoping for Nowaki to let go of things didn't usually work out. "So you haven't slept with over a hundred people?"
"N-No! Where would you get that idea?" He tried to think of some way out of this situation, without bruising Nowaki's pride... but his mind was coming up blank.
"From you, Hiro-san! You said it yesterday!" Nowaki yelled, slamming his hands onto the table.
Oh god. Hiroki decided right then and there that he was never going to drink alcohol ever again. "I was drunk! I probably made up some number off the top of my head!"
"You took five minutes to count it up!" Even Nowaki's voice sounded strained.
In a fit of stupidity, Hiroki replied, "...Only five?"
Lying, apparently, wasn't getting him anywhere. Hiroki coughed, sat back into his chair, and, in the most casual way he could manage, said, "Well, okay. So what if I had? I-it was all before I met you. I was in that dead-end love for Akihiko, and if I hadn't found some sort of sexual release I probably would have gone crazy."
"One hundred is a lot, Hiro-san."
"Th-they were one-night stands. They didn't mean anything. I mean, I can't even remember most of their names." Well, he did know that there had been three different Tanakas and five Suzukis, several men whose first names had also been Akihiko (made it real easy not to accidentally say the wrong name), three of them had actually been women (Hiroki must have been really drunk not to have noticed that), and there was Shinoda, of course, and--
"And apparently I'm not even the best person you've ever slept with?" Nowaki was near tears, that's the only way Hiroki could describe it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever seen Nowaki crying. It was extremely unpleasant, and he couldn't understand how anybody could fall in love with a "crying face."
Thinking back, he realized which time his drunken self must have classified as 'the best.' Which, okay, maybe he'd been drunk but not completely out of his mind, because yes, that was a pretty memorable evening. He'd been in a satisfied daze for almost a week afterward, and even Akihiko had commented on it. "Look, it's, um, that one time.... That is to say... Well, he was a dancer or something, and really flexible, and it's not really your fault you can't bend that way..."
"Ack, I'm sorry! Look, for what it's worth, you're a much better lay than Akihiko was!" There, that would definitely reassure him. He always had that stupid inferiority complex when it came to Akihiko.
Instead of a look of relief or gratefulness, Nowaki looked even more shocked. ".... You've slept with Usami-san?"
Oh. Oh shit. ".... I hadn't mentioned this before? Um, forget I ever said anything." Hadn't they talked about this in the early stages of their relationship? Well, they had met on the day after that really shitty terrible lay. He wondered if Akihiko's boy-toy was as unsatisfied as he had been.
"Hiro-san! Is there anybody you haven't slept with?!" Nowaki looked ready to storm out of their apartment.
"That's not fair! For one, I haven't slept with that many people. And I stopped once I met you! If I'd kept up my patterns from back then I'd be at over five hundred by now!" It wasn't like he didn't beat himself up enough about that point in his life.
This finally seemed to get through to Nowaki; somewhat glumly, he asked, "You stopped completely?"
"Ye... Yes." As long as you didn't count that one year.
Nowaki glared. "You paused."
"No, I didn't." Smile, Hiroki, smile.
"Yes, you did."
"It's your imagination."
"Hiro-san, you were cheating on me?!" Nowaki accused, hurt evident in his eyes. Something inside Hiroki snapped.
"NO YOU STUPID IDIOT, THAT WAS WHEN YOU LEFT ME ALONE FOR A YEAR WITHOUT A SINGLE WORD."
"But I did tell you!"
Hiroki almost yelled another reply, surprised at how angry he was. Yes, he lost his temper a lot, but he and Nowaki hadn't had a real fight since that whole incident with Tsumori. And now they were on an old argument that didn't need to be brought up again. He took a deep breath, sat down (when had he stood up?), and said calmly, "I'm not having this conversation. If you can't deal with it then it's your problem."
He half expected Nowaki to smile at him, say that everything was okay, but Nowaki gave him one last angry look and then rushed past him.
Shit, it was only 9 a.m. and his day was already ruined.
Misaki fought back a yawn as he went to open the door. Usagi-san had kept him up late last night, but didn't have the decency to open the door when the bell rang. It was probably Aikawa-san, since Usagi-san was once again shirking on some deadline.
"Usami-san! I need to-- Oh, hello. Um, is Usami-san in?"
Misaki blinked. The person standing in front of him was tall, dark-haired, and covered with a sheen of sweat. He also looked a little bit scary, and Misaki wasn't sure he wanted to deal with him.
"Ah, um, I'm sorry. Usagi-sa-- er, Usami-sensei is a bit indisposed right now. Can I relay a message for him?" Misaki smiled politely, on hand still on the door, ready to slam it shut.
"Is he home?" At least the man was being polite, although that didn't make him look any less likely to murder somebody at any second.
"Should I tell him you were here? Can I get your name?" If he had a name, Misaki could always call the police on the guy if he turned out to be a crazy stalker of some sort. Or a serial killer. Misaki shuddered and tightened his grip on the door.
"Kusama Nowaki. Please, I need to speak to him immediately."
Misaki had half a mind to just close the door and hope the man would go away, but was saved by Usagi-san coming down the stairs himself.
"Misaki, who is-- oh, it's you."
Well, if they knew each other, Misaki wasn't going to get in the way. He stepped aside to let the man come in, closing the door behind him. He left it unlocked though, just in case they needed a quick getaway.
"Right, Usagi-san, I'll make tea for you?" He walked over to the kitchen, pulling out the necessary utensils. Maybe just the cheap tea, because he had a feeling this wouldn't be a long meeting -- something about the way both Usagi-san and this man stiffened when they saw each other.
The two of them sat down on the living room sofas, this newcomer somewhat reluctantly. Misaki tried to make as much noise as possible, to keep the atmosphere from turning too tense. Maybe they were rival authors -- no, wait, why would he show up at Usagi-san's doorstep then? So maybe he was a bill collector of some sort, and Usagi-san had forgotten to pay off a loan from his college days, and now they were going to kidnap Misaki until Usagi-san paid up, and maybe Misaki would be sold into slavery and be kept by some wealthy businessman who would somehow come to appreciate Misaki for his charms and--
The kettle whistled, and Misaki was startled out of his somewhat disturbing train of thought. The two still hadn't spoken a word, although the man -- Kusama-san, if he remembered correctly -- looked like he wanted to ask something. Usagi-san was leaning back into the couch and barely looking at Kusama-san, a sure sign that he would much rather be somewhere else.
Misaki cautiously set the teacups down in front of them. "Ah, er, if you don't need me, Usagi-san, I'll go do laundry now."
Usagi-san just grunted, which Misaki took as an assent. His speedy getaway was cut short when Kusama-san suddenly blurt out, "Is it true that you slept with Hiro-san?"
Usagi-san coughed loudly; Misaki nearly slipped down the stairs.
"Who told you that?"
"Hiro-san did. I don't think he meant to, but now I need to know what happened."
Misaki really wanted to know what happened too. He sat very, very still, and hoped nobody would notice him on the stairs. (Misaki was not, by the way, jealous. He was completely secure in his position as Usagi-san's boyf-- ...lo-- ...special someone.)
"Look, I don't think Hiroki would want me talking about this."
"I also don't think he'd want you writing BL novels about him, but you do it anyway."
Eh? Misaki suddenly remembered the second BL series that Usagi-san wrote, the one where he (thankfully) wasn't the protagonist. Did that mean another acquaintance of Usagi-san's was getting his name besmirched?
"Ugh, whatever. Yes, I slept with Hiroki. It was only once, and it was a huge mistake. We both regretted it afterwards. Besides, the next time I saw him, you were already clinging all over him." Usagi-san paused before adding, "Happy now?"
From his vantage point, Misaki could make out Kusama-san's face -- he appeared to be scrutinizing Usagi-san's expression, looking for something. Finally, he stood up; Misaki couldn't tell if he was satisfied or not, because Kusama-san's own face remained blank.
"Yes, thank you." Kusama-san walked over to the door, opened it, and turned around to say, "Hiro-san says you were terrible in bed, by the way," and then he left.
Misaki couldn't help it: he laughed. This unfortunately also drew Usagi-san's attention, who turned to glare at Misaki. "Weren't you doing laundry?"
"Yes, of course," Misaki managed to reply between laughs.
Hiroki stared at the list in front of him. It had been hard, but he'd manage to collect twenty names just from memory. The dancer -- Gouda or Gouta Takeshi -- was at the top, along with the few university acquaintances he'd slept with. Easiest to remember their names. He had grudgingly put down Takahiro, even if he'd tried to suppress that memory as much as he could.
(There was no point in telling Akihiko that he had known from the get-go that it would never work out, because Takahiro had asked Hiroki to help him figure out his sexuality. "Kamijou-kun! I might be attracted to a guy oh god---" They'd been sixteen and it was the school rooftop, and honestly it had been awful for both of them. Afterwards, Hiroki asked him why he hadn't gone to Akihiko, who was ostensibly the best friend. "But Usagi-san is completely straight, Kamijou-kun." Hiroki had been sure the world was laughing at him right then.)
Names after that got a bit blurry. Akihiko, of course. Could he put the name Akihiko down five times? He knew he had slept with five different Akihikos, but the kanji weren't the same and he was having a hard time putting a name to the face to all but Usami Akihiko.
Definitely Shinoda, or maybe not Shinoda. Hiroki had never figured out if they'd slept together or not, but he put the name down just in case. Then there was, um, his first and only girlfriend, when he was fourteen and desperately trying to be straight but failing. Yeah, failing really bad, he would put his experience with her as his worst experience ever. Not really her fault, she just wasn't the right type at all.
He recalled a few of the ones he'd seen more regularly than others; they either ran across each other more often at the bars he'd hung out at, or the few he'd exchanged phone numbers with. Oh, that hairdresser who had cut his hair that one time -- Na.... Na.... Na-something.. He remembered because Akihiko had complimented the style.
Miyagi had never expected to see Kamijou's boyfriend at his apartment door. It had seemed, on a scale of unlikely things to happen, more unlikely than Kamijou himself ever showing up at his doorstep, or Shinobu learning to cook. Apparently he'd misjudged though, and he briefly wondered if that meant that there ever was a chance that Shinobu would get good at cooking.
"You met Hiro-san while I was away, right?"
"Ah... I guess? He was mopier back then than he is now." Yeah, Kamijou in his early days had been even more focused on his work, and if Miyagi slacked even a little he'd start yelling. Things had sort of gotten easier since then, what with both him and Kamijou getting laid regularly now.
"Did... did you ever notice him, erm, picking up people? At bars or something?" Nowaki looked completely unhappy to even be asking, but the question sent a terrible shiver down Miyagi's spine.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. No, why would you ask that question? He's not the type to sleep around." That's what Miyagi had always assumed, anyway. He would have believed it too, if he hadn't seen how Hiroki got when he was drunk. Not as bad anymore, but back then...
"Hiro-san told me as much. What kind of people did he go out with?"
"Ah. Um. Tall, dark-haired ones usually?" Maybe that would appease the kid. Once Miyagi had met Nowaki, he'd seen all the pieces fall into place, and understood how Hiroki picked his targets. Replacements, really.
Nowaki was glaring at him. It suddenly dawned on him that there were two tall, dark-haired men standing in the doorway.
"No, wait, this is a misunderstanding! I'm not gay!" Miyagi shouted loudly.
"Oh? You aren't?" a very angry voice asked from behind him. Shit. Miyagi quickly whirled around, hoping his smile could detract some of the anger.
"Ah, Shinobu-chin. I mean, I'm not. You're the exception! Really!" Which was mostly true. He wasn't actually attracted to anybody except Shinobu anymore.
"So you slept with Hiro-san?" Nowaki's voice evened out, and Miyagi couldn't decide if he wanted to take his chances with Shinobu or with Nowaki. Either way, he got the feeling he wouldn't be getting out of this in one piece.
"Not by choice! I mean, uh, no, I didn't! And none of those poor men Kamijou did happen to, uh, sleep with were at fault! He's damn aggressive when he's drunk!" They had both been kind of drunk, and Kamijou started calling him a strange name (which he now knew to be "Nowaki"), and there were extenuating circumstances.
None of which either of the two young men seemed to understand, because Shinobu kicked him in the knees while Nowaki grabbed him by the collar, apparently ready to beat the shit out of him. This wasn't fair, it had all happened before he'd met either of these two!
Nowaki dropped him though, mumbling a cussword at him before running off. Miyagi sighed in relief. Crisis, somehow, averted. He turned to go back in to his apartment.
And realized in horror that Shinobu had locked him out.
That one time with Miyagi, although Miyagi pretended it hadn't happened and Hiroki pretended he'd been too drunk to remember. Hiroki had to strain to remember if he'd ever slept with Isaka -- they had met once at a party at Akihiko's place, and if there'd been alcohol involved Hiroki could see himself slipping off with the older man.
Definitely once with Haruhiko, just because he was Akihiko's brother.
Hiroki wondered if he still had his old address book, reserved for his one-night stands that insisted on exchanging numbers.
Oh, he remembered Bun, because he'd somehow gotten introduced to a lot of other people that way. Bun had given him a bad vibe though, so Hiroki had tried to avoid him after a while. And right, that guy from the bakery that was the way to work but he had to avoid now, because he never wanted to see that guy ever again. (Not that Hiroki particularly liked sweets anyway.)
Now that he saw it all written out, he was starting to realize how Nowaki must have felt. Those were a lot of names, and the list looked a little bit daunting. Hiroki was a little bit disgusted at himself.
At least he wasn't actually a sex addict. Just... really lonely and pathetic. God. Hiroki wanted to go crawl into a corner and never show his face again. Nowaki really deserved better than him. Nowaki deserved somebody who would appreciate his kindness more, or at least not be such an utter jerk about things.
Shit, he didn't know if he'd be able to handle Nowaki leaving him again. It had been hard enough the first time. If it happened again... he could see that list growing ten fold. Not that it ever helped. It hadn't satisfied him when he was pining for Akihiko and it hadn't satisfied him while Nowaki was gone.
Maybe he should go take a bath now. Have a nice long soak, read a good book, and not think about the inevitable break-up.
Nowaki sat on the park bench where he'd first seen Hiro-san. It was a little bit chilly, and the clouds were covering the sky, but the weather was still clear enough for people to be out strolling and kids to be playing around.
He spotted couples on occasion, walking closely together or even holding hands, and a few of the more shameless ones shared a quick kiss. Somewhat bitterly, Nowaki wondered if maybe Hiro-san had slept with any of the men walking by here as well.
"Ah! You're that--"
Nowaki looked up, and saw the boy who'd been at Usami-san's place. "Ah, hello." He tried to smile, but gave up after the boy shrank back a bit. "Sorry," he quickly mumbled, and went back to looking at the kids playing soccer.
He grunted a short reply, not really wanting a real conversation. Still, the kid didn't seem deterred, and he sat down on the bench, leaving plenty of space between them.
"So, I heard what you said to Usagi-san."
"And, um, I wanted to apologize that he's such a terrible friend to you. He's not usually that mean, really."
That startled Nowaki a bit. "F-friend?"
"Well, yeah! He writes about you and your boyfr--... your, um, lover, so he must like you to a certain extent?" The boy was looking away from him, but Nowaki could tell there was a faint blush on his cheeks.
"Ah, he's only friends with Hiro-san."
"Really? Because he was complaining about how if you two were fighting it'd be annoying for him. I thought it'd be because he'd get caught in the middle or something."
Nowaki almost laughed. He couldn't imagine Usami-san caring about anybody except himself. Well, he knew that Hiro-san did still occasionally get together with Usami-san, but he had always imagined their friendship as somewhat one-sided. Usami-san probably just didn't want to hear Hiro-san complaining.
And suddenly he realized that the only reason Hiro-san would ever voice his displeasure was because he was, in fact, displeased.
"Ah, thank you! And thank Usami-san for me!" Nowaki said as he jumped up and ran off.
Misaki blinked. That had been weird. ... And why did Usagi-san only have gay friends?
Hiroki had almost gotten himself to move out of the kitchen and into the bathroom when the front door opened and he heard a soft, "Hiro-san?"
Shit. He wasn't ready yet! He hadn't prepared what to say, hadn't gotten his heart ready yet for all possible outcomes of this scenario. The list was still lying in front of him on the table, ready to be burned or shredded or used as a future hook-up list for somebody.
"Hiro-san, there you are!" Nowaki looked a little out of breath, as if he'd run all the way there. Hiroki wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad sign.
"I'm sorry!" they both blurted out at the same time.
"Ah? Nowaki, you--"
Nowaki grabbed Hiroki's hands and looked him straight in the eyes. "I'm so sorry, Hiro-san. I don't ever want to hurt you, and this fight was stupid. I know I'm just being jealous, and I can't help it, but I don't want to make Hiro-san cry and run off into Usami-san's arms."
"What? I'd never run to him!"
"And even if you had a lot of lovers, it doesn't matter, because you're with me now and I swear you'll never need another one again."
"W-well, yeah. You idiot, that's how it's been for the past seven years." Not counting the year they were apart, which hopefully Nowaki wouldn't. Before Nowaki could say anything else, Hiroki quickly added, "I'm sorry about... whatever I said when I was drunk. I didn't mean it when I said you weren't the best I had. That is... I'd rather be... um, with you than anybody else, and it doesn't matter how good they are or how mind-blowing it was or how dazed they leave me. I don't actually want anybody else."
Hiroki loved it when Nowaki smiled, so he was lucky that Nowaki smiled almost every time he looked at Hiroki. Now the smile seemed brighter, even more happy, and Hiroki thought he might be forced to grin himself if he kept looking at it. He quickly closed his eyes and pulled Nowaki down for a kiss, so he didn't have to see that incredible sight anymore.
"Professor? You look like you haven't slept at all," Hiroki asked, not really caring about the response. He had, yesterday, spent the entire afternoon helping Nowaki win the number 1 spot on his list of best times ever, and he was now feeling extremely content.
Miyagi's eye twitched. "Ah, I wonder whose fault that would be."
"Your brat's?" No amount of foul mood would ruin the pink haze that surrounded Hiroki. Even as Miyagi started yelling about big violent boyfriends and keeping leashes on them and how young, temperamental lovers shouldn't lock their older, more fragile lovers out of the house for an entire night, Hiroki could only reply with a shrug of his shoulders.
"You should communicate more with Shinobu, Professor," Hiroki said as he walked out of their office to his next class. He completely missed the murderous glare that Miyagi sent after him.